


The Swan's Flight

by orphan_account



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swan Lake Fusion, Bonding, Drama, F/M, Family, Inspired by Swan Lake Ballet, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22648966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Callum's life will be changed completely as he finds out this mystical, secret hidden lake.And it will change even more when he discovers that the elusive and graceful swans that reign in this lake are Moonshadow elves that have been turned into swans by an evil and dark enchantment. Yes, it sounds totally crazy and incredible, but the proof is there when he sees one swan transform into an elf girl in front of his eyes.In a time where the world is on the verge of war and tensions threaten peace between the Human Kingdoms and Xadia, love stories can be born.But what if they can't undo the enchantment and stop the war threaten in time? Or what if this is all far bigger than what has been told? There's only one way to find out.
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 123





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Just a few notes: This fic is primarily based on the original Swan Lake ballet composed by Tchaikovsky. I going to change several things like the ending ('cause, you know, the original ending is just... So angst, and that's not the focus of this.) 
> 
> Another important thing you should know before reading this is that I am NOT a native English speaker. So, is probably that my writing will be pretty awful at times. I'll be trying my best. If you find some mistake, please let me know so I can fix it! 
> 
> Okay, so, I think that's everything?  
> Hope you enjoy the fic!

The cerulean and purple sky stretched over the forest and contained the cold of the night.

The soft and fresh wind that circulated between the trunks stirred the heather of the undulating hillside next to the path and shook the leaves of the trees that extended above. The bushes and mushrooms were dotted with colourful flowers of different shades of blue and violet, their petals outlined with a soft contour of nectar and dew. Small and bright beams of moonlight were lighting the path, they filtered through the soupy foliage and stained the mossy mantle of the forest with a silvery and pale light. The little twinkles of humidity that covered the entire forest were proof of the rains of early summer. There was a subtle, timid whisper among the bushes and briars, the branches rustled and parted as slippery and nippy elven shadows slid over their mounts, descending to the hollow in the centre of the clearing. Their white hairs shone with soft, pale light, giving them ethereal silver-tone and the pawsteps of their mounts left a frosty glitter on the moss and grass behind them.  
An elf woman with long, straight hair was the first to reach the hollow. She was one of the two women in the group. She looked around with cautious but glowing eyes.

"This is a good place," she said, "We can build the camp and rest here."

"You are right, Almedha. When we chose you as the explorer of the group, we chose well." The reply came from a tall elf, probably the tallest in the group of six, who was approaching from the other side of the hollow. He leapt from the back of his Moonstrider, causing a dull sound as he touched the floor of the clearing and looked towards the thicket of the forest, nodding briefly.

More nippy Moonshadow elves joined them, silently clustering around their leader and the explorer until the hollow was lined with their sleek, silvery shapes. They were members of the embassy group sent from Xadia by the Queen of the Dragons herself. Mild whinnies from the Shadowpaws and Moonstriders flooded the clearing. 

"At this rate, we should reach Katolis in a few days," one elf reported.

"That sounds pretty neat," said another, seeking for his leader's gaze before adding, "We can start building our tents and looking for medical supplies for Leodas' leg."

The entire group looked at the elf's injured leg. He had an impromptu bandage made of the cloth of some clothes tied around the calf to keep the blood from spreading, "No. It's okay. I don't need medical attention" Leodas said, downplaying it while a horrible grimace of pain pierced his face as he tried to make an involuntary movement with his leg.

"Yes, you do" Runnan, the group leader, frowned severely and looked at Almedha, "Go with Ilvisar. Get the medicinal plants for him. The rest of us will raise the tents."

Leodas glanced uneasily at his teammates, but he remained silent, watching them get to work. The middle-aged elf approached Runnan, insistent. He was still on his mount; an old Shadowpaw. "We don't need to delay our trip further because of my mistake," he said. "We have to get to Katolis tomorrow; the situation is already quite tense, we cannot make it worse by reaching the Gathering with the Human Kingdoms even later. The Dragon Queen trusted us to represent her. We must hurry and get to Katolis by daybreak."

"We must stand here and rest to give you time to treat that wound. The Human Kingdoms will go nowhere." Runnan growled.

Laeroth, who until then had not said a single word, muttered. "Human Kingdoms and its monarchs are unpredictable. They will be capable of declaring war on Xadia if we don't show up at the Gathering tomorrow." 

"If Humans will declare war on Xadia for a justified delay, then Xadia should declare war on them for ambushing and attacking an embassy sent in peace," Runnan said, moving away before he could give the elves a chance to replicate. 

Their brief discussion attracted the attention of a young elf girl, the youngest and most inexperienced one in the group when she finished raising her own tent. It was small and simple compared to the others, but still useful and practical, so she needed nothing else. "I can stay and watch over Leodas as y'all go to the Gathering. I can escort him to Xadia" she offered slowly, trying to hide the surprise that filled her when Runnan passed by her side with his Moonstrider and his stuff to lift his tent next to hers."You don't have to worry. I'll make sure we leave by nightfall."

"I appreciate your initiative, Rayla." Runnan's voice had not lost a bit of its solemnity. It was full of confidence. He tied the reins of his mount in a nearby tree and turned to the young elf girl of lilac eyes, "But we need you here. This is your first Gathering with the Human Kingdoms as an ambassador. You need to be present to learn how to handle these situations because one day if peace thrives, this will be your job."

A gleam of pride shone with intensity in her eyes. She had been Runnan's apprentice for a long time; he was almost like a second father figure to her; he had raised her, trained her, and guided her not only in the path of an ambassador but also that of an assassin. That was her former job, their teammates' former job, long before peace with the Human Kingdoms was declared. A peace that was so new, so delicate and so fragile. Rayla's eyes suddenly clouded with concern as she understood the precarious situation that they were living, "Do you really think it's possible for peace to last? I mean, make it permanent."

"For our people's sake, I hope so," Runnan replied. His voice sounding deep and gravelly. "But Rayla, you must understand that this is not something that will change from dawn to dawn. There are so many people who want the war to continue. All this destruction, death and blood... We've suffered the penalty of losing many of ours because of humans."

Rayla shook her head in disagreement, "Not all trouble comes only from humans," she snapped, swivelling her head to glare at her mentor, frowning. "And not from elves or dragons either, Runnan. You know that as well as I do. Everyone brings trouble within themselves. And problems start at everyone's ignorance."

"Of course. And it will always be that way," Runnan nodded, "But you can't wait for a whole continent to change its mind so soon," _Why not? We went from being assassins to ambassadors practically overnight_ , Rayla thought, but she didn't have the courage to say it out loud. "Try to rest now. Tomorrow we will replenish our provisions, and if Leodas' wound is better, we'll continue on our way to Katolis."

Rayla dipped her head and nodded when Runnan began to unpack his stuff, ending their conversation. Although his words were not particularly satisfied her. And she wasn't sure if she would ever be. It was subtle, but she noticed where Runnan's loyalty settled completely. _With Xadia, of course._ That wasn't wrong. She herself would give her _heart_ for Xadia if she could. But that was wrong with her father and mentor was that he blamed humans and only humans for what had happened. She did the same? Did she blame Humans for starting the war? Since she was a child, she had heard hideous and frightful things about humans. It must be true then, right? Humans were the only ones responsible for this whole war. But at the same time, the current war and hatred had existed for thousands of years ago. Many thousands of years before she was born. The story could be misleading, no one could assure if the Xadians had not changed it to make the Humans see as the real culprits and vice versa. Then, Humans couldn't be the only culprits, and Xadians couldn't be completely innocent, right? No one totally was. But she can't change Runnan's mind. He was stubborn and sort of close-minded person. He won't listen to her. Even if in the end everything turned out to be as she hoped it would turn out to be; In a durable peace. There was concern blinking deep within her being. Xadia and the Human Kingdoms needed this peace. The entire world needed this peace. No kingdom or nation on both sides of the border could survive another hundred of thousands of years of wars and bloodshed. However, could they one day coexist in relative peace and, hopefully, equality? The humans had killed Avizandum, the Dragon King, and had tried to destroy his only egg; The Dragon Prince. It was no surprise that there were resentment and distrust. But now, the Kingdom of Katolis, its King, requested, and practically begged, that Xadia send an embassy to take this ‘new peace’ to a next level and expand it through the other four kingdoms. Wasn't that something questionable? Maybe, but Rayla didn't question it. She was a newly appointed ambassador. She didn't have the experience or the full knowledge that the adults had, but she had hope.

And she had the feeling of needing to be good in this. She had to be a good ambassador of peace. Three or four moons ago, she was only an assassin before they declared peace. And she wasn't too good as one, anyway. Yes, she was strong, fast, and daring but at the moment of truth, when real actions counted and had their consequences, she doubted. She doubted so much. She couldn't kill anyone because every single fibre in her being screamed her that that was wrong. She was, and she is, too kindhearted for such a job like that. Nothing could change that. So when she realised that she had wasted so many years of her life trying to be something that wasn't for her, she entered a state of assimilation and desperate search to recover those lost years. She changed to the path of peace, and she just wished she could do this job well. Literally, her entire society was counting on her to be good and successful in this. There was no place to let anyone down. _This is my thing to do,_ Rayla encouraged herself leaving aside any sign of worry. _Y_ _ou got this._

Needless to say, in addition to her natural concerns about doing her duties well, there was also curiosity and the feeling of not knowing what would happen the next day. Rayla had never left Xadia before or had close contact with the west side of the Border; she was practically in unknown territory and that caused a slight touch of emotion and fear combined. But she wouldn't say anything about it, no. Moonshadow elves did not openly express their concerns, feelings or something similar. Her entire species had developed its history and culture not in sentimentality but in honour and willingness to act.

Rayla stiffened, and she raised her head to look at the night sky. There was a fiercely restless light in her eyes. The moon was shining lonely in thin drifts of clouds and the breeze that glided between and above the trees ran a soft echo. There was something about the calm of the night that seemed to disturb the environment around her and it was sending currents of anxiety through her body.

A fresh, cold breeze ran towards the clearing bringing dust and leaves from the forest, shaking softly the tents and the branches of the trees, singing a silent song that it seemed only Rayla to understand. She wheezed and closed her eyes briefly, padding forward to the hollow's centre and paying attention to that silent song. She did not replenish the looks she received from her teammates. Trembling slightly the she-elf stared desperately toward the moon as if she were searching for something that would counter the sinister feeling that had invaded her.

"Is something wrong?" Runnan inquired seriously from his side of the clearing. His voice contrasted with the previous silence. Rayla looked at him doubtfully.

"No," She shook her head, "Nothing." she reaffirmed. The tall elf didn't seem to be fully convinced, but he nodded.

Around her, the other Moonshadow elves began to pad away. They had finished their duties and when Almedha and Ilvisar returned with the medicinal herbs to heal Leodas' wound, each of them disappeared inside their tents until the shone of their white-silvery hairs vanished from the clearing. It was her turn to stand guard first. And as she turned to sit on the top of a rock, carpeted by a soft mossy cove. A shaft of moonlight struck her contour, defining her figure and illuminating her hair. _It will be a long night,_ Rayla thought, trying not to think about her bad, ominous feeling. She remained a moment longer, watching in silence her surroundings.

As she turned to the sky, the pale moonlight caught the silhouettes of a flock of swans flying over the calm and silent forest. Their white figures merged with the moon as if they were made of the night sky.


	2. Pressure and duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The peace between the Human Kingdoms and Xadia hangs on a wire, and with his birthday celebration just around the corner, Callum begins to feel the pressure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys! I just wanted to say; Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews in the Prologue! The response to this fic has impressed me, I didn't expect so gentle comments! Especially those that refer to the narration/description. I have been writing for many years but, it takes me a long time to find a style of narration that suits me well, so it means a lot that you like it too :D

Callum stretched lazily, feeling the summer sun beat down on his skin. A warm breeze whispered around him, full of the scents of sweet and colourful, growing flowers. Somewhere above his head, a small group of birds were trilling, jumping between the small branches of the trees and doing an exhibition of pirouettes and aerial manoeuvres. Nearby, he could hear the muffled slap of brook water on the shore that rivalled the rhythmic sound of horse hooves.

A tired and extended yawn neutralized the sound of birds and hooves, attracting Callum's attention. "Are you okay, Dad?" he asked worriedly, but gently. Restlessness and uncertainty were clouding his stepfather's eyes.

"No. But, I will be… eventually." Harrow replied by pulling the corners of his lips to force a smile, resulting in a vague grimace. "Thank you anyway for coming to the Gathering, son. I know you don't have to, but it means a lot."

Hay, his stepfather's favourite mare and which had a fairly convenient name, Callum thought for the umpteenth time, issued a demanding growl and waved her ears to claim her rider's attention. The white-and-brown-spotted mare didn't usually demand attention too often, usually, a bucket or two of sugar would be enough to keep her happy, but she was an animal, she could feel that King Harrow's mood wasn't the best.

And it certainly wasn't.

The bright summer sun had gone from being on their backs to be on their heads as they moved away from the meeting point where the Gathering was normally held with the other kingdoms. In the distance in front of them, the shape of Katolis Castle could barely begin to glimpse, which meant at least another hour and a half of silent ride until it reached the castle.

The news made him shrug his shoulders and close his eyes as he tightened the grip of the leather reins in his hands, taking care not to upset the horse he was riding and that surprisingly wasn't interested in making him fall to the ground. At his near almost twenty-one, he was still quite bad in the ways of a prince, although he had learned and improved in some things, by shaping them to his way of being, riding was still something he wasn't very good at. His relationship with animals was almost antagonistic to what his brother, Crown Prince Ezran, had. However, he thanked the horse internally for maintaining his patience with him that day; After the last Gathering, he appreciated being able to return home in relative tranquillity.

It wasn't usual that a Gathering will be held twice in a month, normally, only one was held, on the day after the full moon, when the five kingdoms of the Pentarchy shared a day of peace and truce to discuss progress and ailments of each kingdom, as well as trade agreements and other activities that although it did not attract Callum's attention, he had to learn and witness anyway. It was his obligation as a prince. Or at least it would be his obligation until his brother reached the age of majority. Until then, Callum should postpone all his personal and study plans.

It wasn't so bad. If he thought about it. It was a way to spend time outside the castle. It almost felt like travelling. Then he remembered that he must be among the other monarchs and their sons and daughters and felt completely out of place again. _Yes, it was pretty bad,_ Callum thought.

A week had passed since the Gathering, the first that Xadia would officially attend since the peace had been signed, and the first in which Callum would have contact with Xadian ambassadors. To say that he was excited and at the same time terrified was little, he knew that the tension between the Human Kingdoms and Xadia was still latent and that it would not disappear so easily from a signed parchment. However, none of his worries had been equal to what had finally happened and that, for the young prince, was much worse than what his brain had imagined.

Xadia never showed up. The embassy sent by Queen Zubeia never arrived.

And worse, the eyes of the other kings and queens were on his stepfather as sharp spears. King Harrow had been the one who had killed the Dragon King, Avizandum, and tried to destroy the Dragon Prince's egg. Certainly, he had not been the cause of this whole war, but he has made it worse. Many years had passed since then, Callum knew very well how much his father lamented over the decisions and actions he had made against the Xadian side, decisions and actions that had stained his reign and his person to the depths of his heart, but he was trying to fix that and Callum appreciated and admired him a lot. His father, a man who did not favour war and bloodshed, a man who had gone against everything he believed, only to do what he had to do to protect the kingdom and the people he loved, a man who had seen moments of darkness and light and had been blinded by hatred and revenge. His father, who had understood after many years of mistakes and successes, that peace should be made. His father, he had seen his mistakes, he had accepted them and let them go. He was a very brave and wise man.

And Callum loved him. That's why he couldn't help feeling sadness and anger when he saw how the other kings and queens looked at him with harshness and cruelty as if he was accused of being the only one to blame for Xadia deciding to be absent from the Gathering. That's why they had convened this second Gathering? To unfairly accuse his father when he was trying to do what they didn't and seek to solve these thousands of years of mistakes?

A new sigh escaped from his lips as he opened his eyes again to look straight ahead, Katolis Castle was beginning to be seen more clearly now. Callum blinked and looked at his father from the corner of his eye, he rode silently with his eyes straight ahead but lost in his thoughts deeply. Although to a different extent, both shared the same concerns.

With the absence and silence of Xadia and with the disgust and judgment of the other Human Kingdoms over them, peace was in danger.

**━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━**

"Callum, are you listening?"

The prince dropped the coal from his hand and accidentally wrinkled the blank page of his sketchbook, looking up quickly at his younger brother. Ezran was in front of him, sitting in the grass with Bait, his glowing toad, while he was holding a couple of books on his lap, a tray absurdly full of jelly tarts by his side, the second he ate that afternoon. With the help of Bait, of course. Callum wondered how his brother had done all these years so that his stomach could withstand his excessive and unhealthy diet.

"Sorry, could you repeat it, Ez?" he said and Ezran frowned.

Ezran crossed his arms. "Already did. Twice"

"I'm sorry, I really want to help you with your studies but, you know that's not my thing." He lifted his coal from the ground and looked up at his now crumpled blank sheet. "Besides, Opeli is going to kill me if she finds out I've been helping you with your lessons again."

"Corvus and Dad said the same thing," Ezran lamented, his eyes filling with a slight sorrow before giving way to the complete plea. "Please, Brother. Just for this time, Opeli is not going to let Bait and me go to the Harvest Festival the next week if we don't finish reading these books by tomorrow," he explained, "Besides, I know you're lying, you really love these things."

“Ezran, there is no way I can keep helping you behind Opeli's back, all right? As your older brother, I am putting my foot down."

"You always say the same." The young prince pouted softly. "Killjoy."

Callum sighed as he shook his head a gentle denial. Ezran could be fifteen years old, be very intelligent and very perceptive for his age, but sometimes he could still act like when he was ten years old.

The afternoon breeze blew faintly bringing with it the scents of summer and the roses that covered the castle's gardens. The sound of life and the movement of the castle contrasted with the faint splash of a pair of ducks in a nearby fountain made of marble. "Yes, I know, but this time I mean it, so if you don't want to piss off Opeli, do your homework," he said, "It wouldn't hurt to do it for yourself at least once."

"You are grumpy." Ezran commented, reluctantly taking his book and opening it on a random page, "Did something happen at the Gathering today? Dad looked quite distracted at lunch today." He asked, stroking old Bait's head before taking a new tart of jelly.

"Nothing," Callum replied, "And that's the problem; nothing happened. There's no news of Xadia and the other kingdoms accuse Dad of that." Leaving his piece of coal aside, Callum began smoothing the crumpled page of his notebook as much as possible.

"I don't understand why the Dragon Queen wouldn't keep her word" Ezran spoke softly. He would seem even thoughtful and dismayed, if not for his mouth stained with jelly and crumbs. "The embassy should be here. Dad even offered to give them a resting place before they returned to Xadia."

"I don't know, Ez," Callum recited.

"What if something happened?" His brother asked, looking at him with his big round blue cloudy eyes.

"I don't know, Brother"

Ezran was silent for a moment, not very happy with the response he had obtained from his older brother. However, he didn't ask any more questions and concentrated on finishing his jelly tart and reading one or two more paragraphs of his book, before looking up at the sky as Callum had done a few moments ago. The blue sky began to become a portrait of the most beautiful and diverse shades of orange and pink, with just a few hints of soft yellowish-white to contrast, creating a perfect combination for the sea of red petals and thorns that covered the royal gardens of the Katolis Castle.

The rose garden had not been covering the soft and fresh grass of the garden for more than three years. Between the sea of soft flowers and redbuds, one or two yellow roses grew to give life and different touch to the rose garden.

It had been a gift, from his stepfather to his mother, to honour her and always remember her.

"You're still grumpy," Ezran pointed out after a while, "You haven't been able to draw anything since we're here."

"It's just an art block," a smile tugged at his lips, "Nothing that hasn't happened before. I just can't find something good to draw, that's all."

"This has nothing to do with your 21st birthday celebration, right?" asked his little brother in a tricky way, looking at him with accusing eyes as he finished his jelly tart and grabbed another. Bait also quickly stretched his tongue to grab three and eat them in one bite. "I heard Opeli and the council talk about it. They also informed that because you are now of age, your marriage will be quickly arranged. So, they wait for you to choose a bride at the celebration."

A heavy wheeze escaped Callum's lips as he involuntarily pressed his coal against the blank sheet of his notebook. "No, it has nothing to do with that," he muttered, "Why were you even listening to council issues? You are supposed to be studying."

Ezran tilted his head, "I would have guessed it without council's help anyway. In addition, I have noticed the hints that Dad has been doing about it this last month," a slight chuckle adorned the tense air that had been beginning to make Callum's breathing difficult.

_If you can call that as hints_ , Callum thought with a very light and jaded smile. He didn't answer his brother or say anything else related to his birthday celebration or about what Opeli and the Council had said about his imminent marriage. He didn't want to think about that.

Of course, he always knew that this moment would eventually come. Even if he was not a descendant of the royal family's bloodline, he was still a prince. But knowing that this was going to happen did not diminish the fact that it still caused him an uncomfortable and overwhelming feeling in his stomach. It didn't bother him to marry for merely political reasons. It didn't bother him to marry for the kingdom's benefit. And it didn't bother him to marry without love. Perhaps his youngest self would have been completely against it, but he would turn twenty-one in a couple of days, which meant that the Council wasn't going to rest until they got him to marry a maiden of a noble family. To be honest with himself, he didn't like the idea, deep inside, he knew he had never liked it. But his father, the Council, Katolis, they all needed this union to preserve the peace and, now that relations with the other kingdoms and with Xadia were hanging on a wire, there was no place for his 'whims' or personal desires.

At least, and he had to be grateful, he had been given the opportunity to choose who he would spend the rest of his life with. Callum knew he couldn't say he had no luck.

Even so...

"It's getting dark," he commented, looking up at the sky until finally looking at his younger brother. "You should go to your room or to the library and continue with your studies where there is light."

"But- What about you?"

"It's 'kay, Ez. I'm just going to walk for a while," he said softly, noting that Ezran seemed confused, "I'll clear my mind… Maybe I can finally think of something to draw."

"Okay," the young prince agreed, rising with his books and Bait in his arms. "I'm going to leave you the jelly tarts, in case you stay late again and don't come to dinner. As, you know, you always do."

"Ez, you know that I'd rather eat fruit than eat your overly sweet desserts," Callum smiled.

"Yeah, I aware of that. But I'll leave it anyway."

When Ezran left, the castle garden was mired in silence, except for the distant voices of the guards and the whisper of the fresh summer breeze that gently shook the roses, sending their sweet scent to every corner of the garden. An old but pleasant memory from a long time ago, when he and his brother were only children and played with wooden swords and ran around the huge courtyard, sometimes with their father, sometimes with their aunt Amaya or some lagging guard, sharing only laughter and fun, whipped his mind to remind him of the taste of nostalgia... How distant it seemed now those days when he was a child and everything was much easier!


	3. Beyond the garden wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ancient symbol shines for the first time. Callum discovers something on the Old Gardens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some additional information added!  
> Enjoy the new chapter :)

Night fell fresh and shady when the sun disappeared in the skyline. It was dusky without moonlight, but the clouds seem thick and dense on the sky where the moon was hidden. Only a few small stars were glowing, but it wasn't enough to see well. So, no light, no drawing. But Callum still found himself somewhat reluctant to leave the garden behind.

Instead, the young man was enigmatically passing from hand to hand a small cube with several Xadian symbols —it was called _The Key of Aaravos_ , as told by his stepfather—. It was _a toy_ according to Ezran that had been hidden among his stuff in the games room on the Banther Lodge. Anyway, that cube did nothing but emit an orange glow every time it was near to Bait, Ezran had been about to throw it away when Callum decided to keep it. Even if it did nothing and was useless, rather than emit a beautiful light, the young man had been unable to discard it.

At this time it was serving as a good distraction for Callum.

One part of him wanted to stay there because he hoped the moon would come out to give him light and so he could draw —although he still didn't know exactly what he was going to draw, his brain and his inspiration were simply not cooperating— while his other part, which was probably the wise one, simply wanted to stay away from the castle and the Council.

_It's a truth widely acknowledged, that a single man, a prince who is now of age, must be in want of a wife._

Opeli's words echoed in his head once more. He hadn't wanted to tell Ezran that he had been right about the truth about his birthday celebration and that his assumption that this was the reason for his ‘grumpiness’ had been correct. His young brother did not have to be involved in his affairs, he should only focus on one thing; study and grow, on enjoy his childhood and freedom now that he was just a child, because when he grew up... Gods, Callum adored so much his baby brother. If assuming all these responsibilities, burdens and expectations of the Council and his stepfather was the only way he could make sure that Ezran would not go through the same and instead he could live much happier and freer than him, then everything would be worth it.

This was his thing to do.

 _This is not for you, it's for Ezran. It will always be for Ezran,_ Callum repeated in his mind again and again like a mantra. Yes, he was tired and jaded of the stress and all the pressure he had been subjected to in the last few days, and yes, a very selfish side of him only want to just run away, but he wasn't going to do it. How could he even think of that? He had so many things on his mind, that even if he wanted to, he could not find the tranquillity and peace he needed to clear himself and draw something to forget —even for a moment— the cruel reality that everything would end as soon as he turned twenty-one.

He wanted to travel, he wanted to know, experience, discover that there was much more for him than just trying to fit into a generic mould, how could he do all that if he went from being tied to his obligations as a prince to his obligations as a husband?

Drowning a long breath, Callum set aside his cube and opened his sketchbook where the last doodles he had made about a few weeks ago were; half-done landscapes scribbles and the portrait of a couple he had seen in the village when he had accompanied Ezran to the bazaar

They were young, probably one or two years younger than Callum. They had been circling the bazaar, laughing jubilantly as they visited the stalls of street vendors like two bees that went from flower to flower. She laughed blushing as he swore loudly and almost in a song his mission of finding the ideal engagement gift.

An empathic feeling filled Callum's chest as he remembered those two young lovers. He always had avoided thoughts of marriage, but seeing that couple, he felt a slight ache in his heart. When he married, would he and his wife be in love like those two?

Maybe not at the beginning ( _this is still an arranged marriage_ , Callum recalled) but maybe, just maybe, and over time, they would learn to love each other.

Shaking and moving those thoughts from his head, he turned the page of his sketchbook to return to the crumpled blank sheet. He looked at it for a brief moment.

Why were there times when his head was saturated with ideas to draw and other times where he simply couldn't think of anything?

After some time, and after drawing line after line and then erase them without getting them to take shape, Callum got up from the small marble bench that was near some brambles and a small plot of land with some of the few flowers that were not roses (only a few dahlias and chrysanthemums that made that plot of land his favourite place in the garden). The gentle breeze that had been whispering before now made it much cooler and fresh as it became later. The young man was aware that little did he know about schedules when he was scrutinizing in his sketchbook with such passion, so based on his judgment, he could say that at least it was not yet midnight. However, it was late enough for dinner.

Well, Ezran had been right to point out his new bad habit of always skipping dinner, that is, the only time of the day where he, his brother and stepfather could spend a moment of relative family union without having to pay attention to other matters.

Looking again at his sketchbook, Callum decided to end his failed attempt to draw and he took a jelly tart that his brother had left for him. He decided that it would probably not be so bad to eat one or two to quench his appetite no matter how much he didn't enjoy the excessive sweetness.

"Callum?" Suddenly he heard a woman's voice call him when he gave his jelly tart a second bite.

Wiping the crumbs from the corner of his lips with a special speed, Callum turned to where the voice came from to meet his stepfather's High Mage's daughter a few feet away from where he was. "Hey, Claudia," he greeted with a small smile.

Claudia had grown up with him, his brother Ezran and her brother Soren since they were very young. She was a couple of years older than him, tall and thin, she wore a Katolian long black-and-yellow dress that fit her well and combined perfectly with her long straight black hair. She had characteristic dusky-green eyes. She also worked with her father, Lord Viren, as a royal courtier and dark mage.

Witty, outgoing and with a great sense of humour. It hadn't been a surprise that Callum had had a brief crush on her when they were teens.

"I didn't think I'd find you here at this hour," she mentioned, clearly surprised to find him there.

Callum smiled a little more. "Me neither," he declared. "I didn't know you were back."

When she was not exercising her duties in court or practising magic, Claudia was normally travelling to Del Bar for family matters. Her mother, Lord Viren's ex-wife, had returned to her hometown shortly after their divorce. Now, several years later, she was happily living a new life with her new family. She and Claudia hadn't been very close in the past, but now Claudia went to Del Bar to visit her quite often. Callum felt a prick of jealousy for a moment. Family matters or not, Claudia seemed to have travelled much more in a week than he had in his entire life.

"I came back this morning," she replied, lightly tightening the strap of the bag she always carried with her. "I didn't see you all day."

"Uh, yeah... I was somewhat busy, I guess." Callum replied and shrugged briefly. His expression was somewhat tired.

The mage woman examined him carefully after that gesture as if she were analyzing him deeply. "Yes, I can see that," she said then, convinced. "You look terrible."

When she stepped back and turned to the path to peek at the garden in silence, Callum looked at her for a full second before making a face of offence. "Do I?" he said, his tone funny as the breeze blew coldly. Claudia denied with a smile but said nothing. "What were you doing here anyway?" he asked. He was honestly surprised to find her there at that hour as much as she had been with him.

Claudia glanced at him.

"Nothing very important," Claudia replied without much interest. “Only a couple of jobs for my father, you know. Dark mage things," she added, turning to the castle again as if she had remembered something she had forgotten. "And speaking of dark mage things, I still have something to do... uh, I'll see you later?"

Callum nodded solemnly. "See you later."

Claudia blinked livelily and as fast as she appeared, she left again, moving forward with speed (and not caring about tripping over her dress or not), listing in murmurs to herself a lot of things in a strange language that for Callum was completely incomprehensible. Maybe they were spells or things that had something to do with the job she was doing for Lord Viren, he didn't know. Despite her adulthood, Claudia still maintained her peculiar way of acting, and after years of growing up with her and witnessing that ‘peculiarity’, Callum was no longer surprised to see her act so strange and weird. Which was good or bad, depending on the situation in which one takes it.

Lord Viren, Claudia's father, was the High Mage of King Harrow and a self-proclaimed servant of Katolis. He had served his stepfather and the kingdom for many years since Harrow's coronation, it could be said that he was the right-hand man of his stepfather. Like Claudia, he was a dark magic scholar (a practice that Callum had always found uncomfortable, and now with the "truce" with Xadia, he was in an even more uncomfortable and delicate posture), and a rather important councillor. He was Ezran's godfather, as well as a close friend of the royal family. Although it was wrong for Callum to say so, he didn't know if it was the stoic nature of the man or the details of his place as a prince, but he had never been closely related to Lord Viren. Unlike his children, the High Mage seemed to be a frog from another pond. The opposite completely.

When he finished eating the jelly tart he had taken before Claudia appeared, Callum decided that it was still too early to return inside even though it was now past twelve o'clock at night. He decided to walk through the gardens for a moment, this time not to clear his mind, or motivate his imagination or something, he simply decided to walk to taste the fresh breeze and appreciate the roses. 

Perhaps it was for the same reason that Callum did not expect to find —while he was walking slowly and humming a song he hadn't heard anywhere— that between the old cobblestone walls upholstered by vines and mosses there was one much newer in comparison (even if new vines and moss had begun to grow again). It was in the Old Gardens, which owed their name not only because of their age but because they were dated from the time of the Orphan Queen.

Callum stopped curiously while looking at the stone. His stepdad wasn't a gardening enthusiast, but he had taken special care in the gardens of his ancestors to keep them as a portrait of the past. He would never have authorized to rebuild the walls unless it should be strictly necessary. And that wasn't the case. There was something strangely unknown in the structure of those cobblestones. So smooth, so symmetrical, so perfect...

But that wasn't what really caught his attention, or aroused his curiosity, or intrigue. No. His stepfather could well have started to restore the gardens and he simply hadn't entered yet, there was nothing new in it.

What did attract his attention, on the other hand, was the unusual blue-silver glow that had begun to shine brightly through his pocket.

The cube; The Key of Aaravos, was glowing. The _M_ _oon_ rune was glowing.

No other rune, besides the Sun rune, had shone before. Much less with that intensity, which was strange. Contrary to what anyone would have expected; That the cube shone in the direction of the sky (although the moon was still stubbornly hidden among the clouds). It shone in the direction of the wall.

A magic wall in the garden? Of course, there was a magic wall in the garden!

He had lived in Katolis Castle since he was only three years old, maybe four years old. He had moved there when his mother married his stepfather. In the eighteen-years he had lived there, he had seen every corner of the huge castle. He knew every stone that made it up, every armour and tapestry that adorned it, and every rose that grew in the gardens that his stepfather had built to honour his mother's memory. He had never seen or known of the existence of a magic wall in the Old Gardens.

And somehow, all this strange and casual discovery was related to the supposed “anti-stress” toy that he used to prevent the wind from blowing his sketchbook's pages when he was drawing outside. Yes, it sounded like something totally crazy and absurd. Callum was about to credit this kind of 'visions' to his lack of sleep, (what other explanation could he find for that but the few hours of rest he had?), But he didn't. Instead, he reached out to touch the surface of the cold rock, partly out of curiosity and partly to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

The wall was real, it was there. His hand slid across the carefully covered surface of a thin layer of moss.

The Moon's rune was still shining brightly, but it was almost impossible for it to be because of the moss or the stone, Callum thought, they both looked quite ordinary to have activated the lunar rune symbol. It was as if… it was shining for something beyond the garden wall.

Could that be possible? The blue-silver light of the Xadian rune shone in a way that he had never seen before.

Then Callum came up with an idea. Although it was rather a theory or hypothesis, and he had failed at least twice before succeeding, on the third attempt to press one of the rocks on the wall it sank and was pressed emitting a thud. Nothing happened. Callum almost lost hope that something ‘extraordinary’ would happen when a slight and almost imperceptible inscription was manifested in the rock he pressed, a blue-silver tone like that of the cube.

Then a door opened.

And of course, Callum decided to cross that door, by now, he had already gone too far to retract and although this had not been what he had in mind when he told Ezran that he would go for a walk to clear his mind. He had certainly accomplished his task.

What he found on the other side was something of _Ogulhana_. He was sure he had never seen anything like it.

Were there magnificent fountains carved in marble? Yes; Beautiful brooks that crossed the rose-garden? Yes; Magic walls with strange runes inscribed in ancient gardens? No.

An enchanted lake like never before?

No...

However, there it was, showing off what Callum defined as the largest of egolatries.

A disordered patch of grass is neighboured by numerous hedges, bushes, and shrubs. The lake shines in the centre of the garden, long, peaceful, and ever-flowing with glistening water. The flower beds are slightly overgrown, but look otherwise in great shape; they're fighting an eternal competition for the best spots. The hedges, bushes, and shrubs reach 1m/3ft high, but they've recently been trimmed, and thus will grow much higher soon. A path of stone twists around the garden and disappears between the old but still strong willows. Grass, roots, and reeds compete with each other for the best and the most land in the garden, each keen to claim it all. 

The Lake was definitely the main attraction within this hidden and mysterious garden. The flower beds shouldn't be ignored, and the hedges, bushes, and shrubs definitely try to claim their share of the glory, but the spotlight will always be on the lake.

It was only then when he thought he had been convinced that the lake was the main attraction, the main focus and the most ethereal wonder in the garden, that his attention was hypnotically attracted by a group of white-silver figures that made their appearance in the water. From the edge of bushes and reeds that sprouted on the shores of the lake upholstered by water lilies and aquatic plants, these figures glided with special grace and slowness, performing what Callum soon defined as one of the most delicate and elegant dances of nature that he had never seen before.

His body and his mind did not respond to his brain at that time, too lost in the unreal beauty in front of his eyes to make him aware of where he was and where he had entered in a casual and erroneous way. His eyes were fixed on only one thing, attracted by the source of inspiration he had in front of him.

Gods, the waters that seemed made of crystal and the aromatic lotus flowers were little compared to this.

The dance of the swans, it was all grace and charming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly (and fictional) dictionary.
> 
> Ogulhana: In Elven mythology, Ogulhana (also called The Elysian Halls) is a majestic, enormous and ethereal realm and the location where worthy and honest elves are believed to go when they die. Ancient elven poems say that the dead in Ogulhana live a life that would have been the envy of any living creature.


	4. The right thing to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding the swan lake, Callum most face some innuendoes.

The swans. Those majestic and beautiful birds that are well-known for being elegant and quite calm to look at.

When Callum sees them, it's when he realizes that he has found something precious. Something magic.

And that's also when he realizes that he can't stay there. First the magic wall, then the lake and then the swans... They were all well protected, hidden so that not everyone would see them, _but who was worthy of being there?_ the young man wondered unconsciously. Such a beautiful place, so indescribable... Callum could only stop seeing the swans as soon as the light of the rune cube shone with much more intensity than before, reacting to the insane amount of Moon Magic that somehow or other concentrated in the lake.

And that reaction ends up arousing the prince's curiosity even further, which up to this point is more than clear that is the most prominent aspect of his personality. But who could blame him? Great things did not always happen —like this one— in his day to day. At least not related to magic.

When humans were completely exiled during the Great Division of Xadia thousands of thousands of years ago, a large percentage of the ancient magic that used to enrich the land had been almost completely drained from the west side of the continent. In the end, the elves and dragons had not trusted what humans would do with all that magic and left the land as poor and infertile as they could. Many years cost humanity to prosper. However, only a few plants and animals still retain that magic and currently reside on the human side of the continent, but they're difficult to find. So why was a great presence of Primal Energy suddenly rising in this place? (The castle could well be the least magical place, according to Callum.)

He didn't know. When it came to magic, there were many things he didn't comprehend about and didn't know about. But what he did know was that such a place, full of so much magic and charm, shouldn't be a place for everyone. Callum shouldn't be there.

Accidentally, he steps on —and breaks— a twig that reveals his presence and the swans' song stops. He's hidden behind the willows, whose leaves caress the lake canopy, and while he knows that swans are naturally peaceful and gentle birds, they can be extremely hostile when they need it. Like a goose, Callum thinks, but swans are nothing like gooses. They are agile, elegant, subtle, mysterious, precise, charming... Even if they attack, there's an elegance and masterful dexterity in their behaviour that makes them beautiful creatures. Callum wonders if the reason he hadn't thought to draw them earlier was that he hadn't noticed his admiration for them and suddenly he just wants to immortalize the swans in his sketchbook. However, he doesn't risk making another move. What he least wants is to irritate and unbalance the peace of the place with yet another example of his clumsiness and lack of stealth.

Gods, Corvus would be very disappointed with him. Even more so than his aunt Amaya —even if she had signed otherwise— when she tried to teach him how to fight with swords after Soren had completely given up on him.

He decides that the most cunning, cautious, and even intelligent thing is to leave. Leave those birds alone and get as far away from the lake and garden as possible. The stories that talk about places like this; Mysterious and haunted places that are hidden in plain sight from anyone and are discovered by mistake don't usually end well. Whenever the hero comes to a place like that, the villain of the story arrives to ruin the moment before the hero even has a chance to find the _treasure_ behind so many mysteries and secrets. He didn't want to be caught by surprise being in a place he wasn't supposed to know. No. He wouldn't give that 'villain' that pleasure in this story, so he waits for a brief moment while regulating his somewhat shaky breathing. The sound of birds in the background, sounding soft, is like a low, deep lullaby that echoes through the bark of the firm willows. The young man admits that he's intrigued to _look_ , but he stands firm and waits a little longer. Then he begins to walk away slowly and quietly. He knows that it's after midnight when Harrow begins to wonder where he has been, and Callum accepts that as much as he's curious and _tempted_ to know more about this new and unexpected discovery, he has to return to the castle.

He says to himself —and to justify his actions— that he wants to keep Harrow's concern from being his responsibility, though he also doesn't want to try to leave the garden and for having taken too long to do so, he ended up running into someone who had seen him or worse yet; whoever the other person who knew about this place was.

Because there must be someone else, who would have cut the bushes, shrubs and mushrooms if not?

With one last glance over his shoulder to record, once again, the unreal image of the enchanted lake and the swans, the prince leaves the garden feeling his chest begin to be overwhelmed by all this new information, and all these doubts that he had obtained thanks to the rune cube. A mental note is made to inquire about the cube, the runes, and everything else later, and he crosses his fingers so that no one in the castle asked him where he had been in the hours he had been outside.

The rest of the night is wasted in his bedroom sketching the swans in the lake. Among all the questions and doubts that hung in his head, only one thing remained safe and latent;

That wasn't to be the last time he would visit the lake.

**━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━**

"So, were you able to finish your homework last night?"

Callum asks calmly as he rubs his eyes, his voice sounds somewhat raspy and guttural —as if the young man was making a great effort to suppress a yawn— while he walks slowly and carefully so as not to stumble since his vision is blocked. The hallway to the dining hall was empty and quiet, and the orange light of dawn was beginning to filter through the windows, creating soft trails of light. Outside the castle, the crown guards morning training can be heard faintly. 

"Yes," Ezran exclaimed with habitual happiness, his pale blue eyes wide open despite the early hours, too bright and too vivid as he walked beside him.

The prince's gaze turned into a mocking one when he noticed that his younger brother wrinkled the bridge of his nose slightly, almost imperceptibly. "Really, you alone?" he inquired.

Ezran waits a full second, then nods. "Yes…?"

Callum frowns. "Ezran," he warns.

"Okay! I did all my homework but had help," the young prince confessed, dropping his shoulders in surrender. A playful smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he smiles as he adds in a somewhat shrill voice; "Maybe I ran into Claudia last night and she helped me a little..."

 _Of course_ , Calum sighs. "So, since Dad, Corvus and I refused to continue helping you with your tricks, did you make Claudia your new accomplice?" he asks again and a slight laugh escapes his lips.

"She offered to help me!" He defended himself, catching his smile. "But she didn't do all the work," he added.

"Do I have to give you the benefit of the doubt?"

The crown prince denied, there was a sparkle gleaming in his younger brother's eyes. "She was very kind and very good, Callum."

Callum hums and continues walking, without saying a word but without erasing the calm smile from his face, completely unaware of the look or the smile that lit up Ezran's face and made him emit a small shriek. _He really must have rested very well to be in such a good mood,_ Callum thinks softly. His brother makes him realize —involuntarily— how little he has slept the night before. 

He was awake and mindful, calm as every morning. However, slight dark circles were located under his usually warming green eyes, now tired and less bright than usual. They were still too slight to be noticed unless closely observed in the face.

The night before… after what he had _seen_ the night before, he had not been able to fall asleep. On the one hand, he was elated, not only had he found something secret and beautiful, but he had also found something _magical_. Gods, Callum had barely made it to his room last night when he picked up his sketchbook and charcoal pencil and started drawing everything he had seen. Amazed and happy to break his art block.

But the prince knew well that not everything was summed up by his fascination. That there was also curiosity, doubt and uncertainty bouncing off the depths of his chest, successfully distracting him from his work when he was making the third sketch of a great swan that he had managed to see in detail the night before.

"You look absent-minded," Ezran pointed out, looking at him. "Are you thinking of _something_?"

Callum lifted his head in shock, angling his head to look towards the boy. He had caught him lost in thought again.

"Or maybe _someone_?"

On the one hand, the young man faces the possibility that he should tell his brother Ezran about what had happened the night before. On the other, the doubt as to whether or not to tell his young brother runs through his mind like a parasite. Since childhood, he and Ezran had firmly and consistently upheld the rule of always maintaining honesty and absolute truth between them in any situation. That promise of children might well seem distant and childish, but it had been a promise that Callum had fiercely tried to keep and preserve. However this time he felt a different feeling. The need to protect his brother from the unknown.

The lake could be wonderful, and Ezran would surely love to communicate with the swans, but something aroused the young man's mistrust and caution. What had happened last night had been a coincidence, something that was not planned and that he should not have seen, who could assure him that this would not have repercussions in the not too distant future? Was he really willing to risk compromising Ezran on that if it turned out to be true? The lake was beautiful, but it was also something unknown, something mysterious, new —potentially dangerous. He wasn't going to risk including his brother in that if it brought trouble later.

The young man shook his head when something suddenly clicked in his brain and he looked at his brother. "Someone?" he repeated.

Ezran's smile widened and his gaze sparked. "Yeah, someone!"

Callum did not understand what the kid was talking about.

"What?"

"Claudia!" Ezran exclaimed almost in exasperation, stopping completely in the middle of the long hallway. Callum shrugged at his sudden loud volume. "You are thinking of her, aren't you?"

 _What is he talking about?_ "What are you talking about?"

Ezran's mocking smile fell completely and was replaced by a frown. Then for a look that perhaps approached a look of disappointment. "You didn't?"

 _Of course not,_ Callum answered in his mind. His lips said nothing.

"Oh." Ezran sighed when three seconds passed and he didn't speak. "I thought yes, you know?... With this about your birthday and your marriage, and... I heard something mentioned that you would probably choose Claudia."

"Why would I do that?" Callum said quickly. Bad time for his brain-mouth connection to work.

The boy makes a small noise and says; "I thought you liked her. I like her."

They both sit in awkward silence, Ezran looking everywhere but at him and Callum is silent for a moment before thinking about what to answer.

"Hey, buddy... I like her too." He says softly, holding him by the shoulders. "But not in that way. Not a romantic way. She's now a great friend of mine and we're totally fine like that. ”

"But, you know her, don't you?" he asks. "And you like her."

Callum nods. "Yes, but-"

Ezran's gaze is grieved. He looks at him. "So would you rather marry a stranger, someone you don't know or love?" There is concern in the tone of his voice, perhaps some anxiety.

So that was the reason his brother wanted him to marry Claudia. Not because someone had planted that idea in his head, but it was mainly because Ezran didn't want him to marry an unknown woman. A _stranger._

Callum wondered if he should be moved by his brother's concern or not.

"I don't have any other option." He says most softly and gently he can. "This is my responsibility. This is what I have to do. ”

The boy shakes his head abruptly as if refusing to even allow himself to hear that answer. "No, it's not! You are not— you don't deserve this, Callum. Don't do it..."

Callum smiled sweetly despite his exhaustion. "I don't want to but I have to. Maybe you don't approve it and you're worried about me ... But, I chose to do this. And this is the right thing to do, and I would do it over and over again if necessary. ”

"Why?" Ezran asked without understanding, almost in a sob.

He smiled. "I love you. That is all you should know."

Ezran stood in solemn silence for a long time, staring at the scarf that he normally wore with an absent air before responding in a soft, gentle whisper.

"Love you too."

**━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━**

Just as they were arriving at the dining hall, Callum and Ezran ran into Soren and another crown-guard —who the prince couldn't remember his name. Soren seemed to be uncomfortable about something. His eyes gave him away.

"Soren, is everything all right?" Ezran's voice was gentle.

He didn't say a single word. But the screams heard from inside the dining room responded instead. They sounded somewhat muffled by the thickness of the door and the cold stone walls.

It didn't take long for them to recognise who belonged to those voices arguing fiercely on the other side. It was an obvious answer; King Harrow and Lord Viren.

"They should come back another time, His Majesty is busy right now having a conversation with the High Mage" Soren muttered as if he wanted to prevent one of the two people from entering the dining room. The guard next to him nodded sternly.

"Conversation?" Ezran spluttered. "Soren, they're not talking, they are yelling at each other!"

No one said anything after what his brother said and Soren didn't insist on asking them to leave. It wasn't like him, Callum thought. But from the uncomfortable look of the crown-guard, he assumed he just wasn't too comfortable hearing his father yelling on the other side of the door.

A thud was heard on a surface that Callum soon recognized as a table, followed by Lord Viren's irritated yowl behind. "Xadia will destroy us if we let them!"

"We are not going to take action against Xadia, Viren!" Harrow yelled in response. Annoying, but much more moderate compared to the High Mage. "We are not going to betray peace."

"And they can!?" Viren answers instantly, almost in grunts. Ezran shrugs and looks at Soren wanting to say something to him. But it doesn't. "Peace was signed under an oath, Harrow, and they broke it. They are only a lot of oathbreakers!"

 _Oathbreakers_. The word hangs around in Callum's mind for a moment.

"Enough!" Harrow yells.

Nothing is heard again for several minutes.

Then the dining hall doors swing open, almost pushing Soren and the other guard aside as Lord Viren hurries past them, too focused on his anger to hear the questions his son asks him, but Callum can see in that brief time his frown. Viren was someone mostly serious and short-tempered, traits he had had to familiarise himself with since he lived in the palace. Something made him uneasy. Was it something deeper than anger and irritation that Callum had seen in his eyes?

The room was silent on the other side. Both he and Ezran shared a worried look before the youngest took the first step and they both entered the dining hall.

"Oh, boys," Harrow sat up in his seat, his smile faltering. "Did you…?"

Ezran was the first to arrive with his father. The young prince wrapped his arms tightly around him. "Yes,"

Harrow seemed distressed by the response. "Oh,"

"You okay?" Callum asks. He makes an effort to prevent his growing concern from taking the best of him.

"I've dealt with Viren and our discussions before," Harrow replies without much encouragement, smiling only as his hand rests calmly on Ezran's head to gently ruffle his hair. Something in his eyes looks distant and thoughtful. "This time it was because of the whole matter of the Unofficial Gathering. Viren insists that we must retaliate against Xadia, I'm pretty sure you two heard some of that."

Ezran frowns. “Yes, we did. But none of that doesn't make sense! They cannot attack Xadia. ”

Something inside Callum's chest flares with admiration as he once again witnesses his brother's perseverance in defending Xadia's actions before others. It reminded him of how hopeful Ezran was, just like their mother. When he sits in the chair next to his father, Callum mimics the gesture by sitting on the opposite side. The young man looks out of the corner of his eye at his stepfather, attentive to his expression.

The King and the High Mage could well maintain a friendship that had been built day after day through the last twenty-nine years, but that doesn't completely eliminate the abysmal differences that existed between the two men. Much less the tension and instability that seemed to boil between them each time their ideas collided with each other. They were different people, with very different perspectives.

"There has to be a reason for Xadia to be silent," Ezran commented softly. "Isn't that right, Callum?"

"Yes, there must be..." He answered, not quite sure.

Harrow looks at them both for a full minute before speaking. "Do you agree with what Viren thinks, son?

Callum grimaces. "I don't know,"

Part of him knows that he wants to remain impartial. On the one hand, he understood Lord Viren's concern for the kingdom and Xadia's 'faults', but on the other hand, he didn't see fit to unleash something as hasty as a revolt against dragons and elves for something that might not be so alarming. Ezran was right, there must be a _reason_.

Callum feels like he wants to add _much more_ to that simple three-word answer, but _he doesn't_. His expression gradually goes blank and his mouth doesn't form a single syllable, leaving his stepfather and brother's imagination all the unfinished sentences he could have said and that, for one reason or another, he didn't say.

"And you?" the question was for Harrow this time. "What are you going to do?"

The king looked at his son with a faint smile on his lips, calm. His eyes showed enormous exhaustion, one that Callum had never seen in his father. Suddenly the young man realised that he seemed a thousand times older and tired than the man he was used to seeing every morning, always cheerful and mindful.

"I will know how to do the right thing." _He wasn't going to act without thinking again._

Ezran smiled warmly. "I... I know that everything that's happening is complicated and, perhaps we don't understand everything that you're going through," he explained. "But we are here."

"We are right here, Dad"

Harrow's expression softened. "I know that," he said. "And it's a great relief for me to have you two at this time."

Callum smiled when he and Ezran were pulled into a tight hug from their father. Even if their bones would pay the consequences later, they didn't care. Both princes knew that amidst the tension and stress currently in King Harrow's mind, the best they could do was to be there to support him.

Regardless of whether or not he broke the promise he had made to himself the night before, Callum decided that he wouldn't go to the lake that day and instead stay with his brother and father.

That was the right thing to do. As a prince. And as a son.


	5. What the moon reveals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Wow, how much has happened? Two weeks from the last update? I'm very sorry for the delay, and I appreciate your patience. I hope everyone's doing well and taking care of themselves at home during this quarantine period.
> 
> This chapter took me so long! And I think it's the longest one until now. Hope you enjoy it!

After that day, things between Lord Viren and King Harrow turned a little... bitter, Callum decided. There was no better word for it really. There wasn't anger, but there definitely wasn't that same peace and reconciliation that there used to be after a fight is resolved. The two continued to work together to do what was right for the kingdom, regardless of their friendly relationship, and while Harrow seemed to have cast aside his anger and disgust at Lord Viren's almost warlike views, the High Mage didn't seem overly pleased.

Callum wondered if there was indeed an occasion where he was genuinely pleased. Not being able to name any.

The morning at the castle was a little cloudy that day, but still beautiful. The whitish and greyish colour of the clouds that lined the sky wasn't an impediment to the sun rays that, although faint, managed to illuminate the earth. According to the predictions of the servants and some other guard who had heard around there, the sky would be clear at night.

"Did you sleep well?" Ezran had asked him when they had left their rooms that morning and he had said yes, although, in reality, he hadn't. There was a genuine joy in his tone that Callum simply couldn't spoil by saying that he had stayed sleepless again.

He had been visiting the lake continuously for the days that followed after he found it by chance. Going to draw the swans at every free opportunity that presented itself between his princely obligations and the time he had reserved for his brother and father, finding a balance between the two.

The swans had turned out to be a fairly effective source of inspiration, and in no time more than a third of his sketchbook was filled with drawings and sketches of the birds. Although from their first meeting, the young man had decided that he would keep his distance. At least 11 ft away to be cautious. There was something in his chest that told him that although the swans didn't seem to have noticed his presence and therefore hadn't attacked him, they were aware of his presence. They knew he was there, they just didn't show it and didn't get close to him.

He was also unwilling to approach beyond the set distance. He was afraid of breaking with the kind of ‘trust’ he had established with the birds and also, he was a faithful believer of admiring nature without causing the slightest alteration or intervention.

"Today is the big day," Ezran continued speaking, holding a wooden sword. Of those that are used for the practice of sword fighting. "You ready?" He added. Callum pulled himself out from his thoughts, looking up at the blue pools in his brother's eyes.

"No. Honestly, I'm terrified." He replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Ezran laughed, raising the wooden sword defensively against him as Callum raised his own. "You're going to be okay," he assured. "I've seen you pretty calm all this week."

Between his duties as a prince supporting his stepfather, and the afternoons when he studied the Key of Aaravos, seeking an explanation for the swan lake and the presence of Primal Magic, he had been relatively calm. Absorbed that tonight the most likely thing to happen was the announcement of his engagement to some maiden.

"That's because I'm a very good actor," he jokes, wielding his sword and advancing on his brother, Ezran bends down and blocks the blow. A smile forms on his face as his chest swells with pride.

While the training sessions were primarily done by Soren, Callum occasionally supplanted him. He used to take over his brother's mentorship when Soren was leaving on an important crownguard mission or was involved in some personal or family matter. Yes, perhaps he wasn't the most qualified and highly trained swordsman in the kingdom, and yes, perhaps any other soldier who was chosen at random to supplant Soren could be a better and more qualified mentor than him, but he loved spending time with his younger brother. Their training sessions brought back the vague memory of their childhood when they both played real fighting. Those were precious memories, and he treasured them with affection. Somehow, this felt so close to those days, for both him and Ezran surely. He was delighted to do it. In addition to being a favour he was doing with happiness for Soren, who in addition to being his friend, had also been his mentor when he was younger.

At that time, neither of them knew exactly what they were doing. Because on the one hand, there was Callum's general clumsiness and his dilemma with taking a sword, and on the other, there was Soren, an inexperienced mentor, trying to manoeuvre and teach his first apprentice. Yes, things had turned out to be very difficult and full of obstacles for both of them, but in the end, they both learned, somehow.

Contrary to his early years, Callum was no longer so bad with the sword. He was still clumsy and slow enough to react quickly and lacked practice in some more advanced manoeuvres, but he had shown himself fully capable to hold a proper confrontation for a long time. To Soren's relief, who hadn't been afraid by then to say how close he had come to the edge of resignation.

Now Ezran was his new apprentice.

He had shown a better predisposition to learn than he did at the time. More enthusiastic. More attentive. He was a fast learner (and perhaps that was also due to Soren's acquired experience in mentorship, and perhaps also a little at his later adulthood).

Technically, both brothers were at the same level. Although Callum thought that Ezran easily overcomes him and that, in fact, he contained himself to benefit him. Whether or not this was true, the sword fighting was a precious moment of bonding that they both made the most of when the opportunity arose.

"Yeah, you've always had a keen eye for art and theatre," Ezran agreed, flexing his knees as he put a hand behind his back and counterattacked, a little uncoordinated at first, then clean and accurate. "But I don't believe you, you've been strangely calm these days."

From his tone of voice, he sounded suspicious. "I was?" he asked dodging his attacks as he could, stumbling at least once. To the left of the training arena, the two guards who were guarding passed each other something the prince had no time to identify. Looking at his brother, he added; "I thought that between you and me, you would be the most anxious,"

For a moment, something clouded her younger brother's sight, and a thorn of guilt planted itself in Callum's throat. "Yes, I am," Ezran replied, distracted. He paused for a moment, not lowering his sword. "I'm not exactly happy with knowing _this way_ who my sister will be," he confessed, his eyes hardening with anger, adopting an aggressive position. "But nothing I'll say is going to make you back off, right?" he asked, propelling himself toward him. Callum barely had time to move to block his attack. His sword grip was erratic against Ezran's strong. "So I hope you make a good decision."

They both fell back returning to their starting positions. The young man studied his brother's face for irritation or resentment. He found none. "I thought you disapproved."

"I _disagree_." He replied. "But I stand by you anyway. I'm your brother, and I have to support you in your decisions even if I don't agree," he added, smiling serenely. Callum smiled too and they both lowered their swords, bowing and performing the salute with which they always ended an encounter.

"Thank you. You are the best brother anyone could wish for," he confessed sincerely, reaching out to take his wooden sword.

"I am," Ezran replied proudly. Turning when he heard someone's footsteps joining the training arena. "Soren, you came!" He exclaimed vibrant and full of life, as always.

"I was entertaining him in your place," Callum commented cheerfully towards the crownguard, a few years older than him, extending both wooden swords towards him, a gesture that reflected what he used to do in his apprentice days. Soren took them, familiar with the action. "Was everything all right with Lord Viren?" He couldn't help but ask, curious.

That morning before Ezran's training began, Lord Viren had called his son for what he defined as 'a matter of great importance'. And both he and Soren himself knew what those words often meant. Bad things.

Bad things that generally were for Soren.

"Yes, he had been looking for you all over the castle," Ezran commented thoughtfully. "He looked angry," he pointed out.

"He looked angry since the day I was born," he mentioned at the comment, shrugging. Her blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of humour and sarcasm. "Everything is fine, kid," he added, warm and comforting, tousling Ezran's hair.

Something didn't sound very honest in his voice, Callum sensed. He knew Soren well enough to know when the man was hiding something or saying less than he wanted to do. It was a benefit that had been given to him having grown up with him from a young age (even if at first their relationship wasn't the best) and has been, until a few years ago, his former apprentice. He could identify his lies.

However, he decided not to inquire into the matter. And the main reason for that was that Soren's unspoken concern completely vanished as he focused on his new apprentice and his vibrant and joyous comments.

Again, the young man thanked heaven and each star for being blessed with a brother like Ezran.

**━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━**

As the day slowly transforms more and more into the night, the time for his birthday party to begin is dangerously close.

It's Prince Callum's premature and childish nerves that end up guiding his steps and those that lead him to visit the lake for the first time that day. No one has followed him. Even when the security of the castle had increased considerably throughout the day. The sky above him, once covered by a thick blanket of clouds, now appears clear and cloudless. It's delicately sprinkled by the first stars of the sunset in a tide of orange, red and yellow tones that for the eyes of an artist like him is extremely beautiful. However, such a show still lacks its main star.

There's still an hour or two before the raise of the glowing moon.

"You are such a coward." Callum scolds, annoyed. There's some contempt in his voice that comes from deep in his throat. His eyes are fixed on his reflection in the water, which he sees with a frown. "You are _afraid_."

This is probably the first time that he has been remotely close to the clear, calm waters of the lakeshore. Despite this, and the beauty of the sky, his attention is subject to his undulating projection, which he sees with deep annoyance and perhaps frustration. He's sitting cross-legged in a thin layer of soft moss next to long reeds and greenish aquatic plants, playing enigmatically with the ring finger of his left hand. As if it were the most interesting activity of all.

"Of course you're afraid." He answers himself after a while, strangely calm and collected. There's some realization in his voice even.

The lake is in an unusual calm and silence, Callum soon realizes that. He also notes that he hasn't seen the swans anywhere, although he cares little at the moment. His attention is completely directed to his self in the water, which looks at him with deep disdain and disappointment.

“Today you're going to have to make the choice that will change your life forever, will you choose well? Will you spoil it? ”

He doesn't answer instantly and instead stares at his reflection with anger and a slight trace of innocent and childish doubt remote from his not so distant adolescence. Inviting him to form a smile on his face that although slight, is still a smile anyway. A fresh sigh escapes his lips and the closest thing to a laugh appears in his throat. Despite being practically a young adult, his being still allows himself to mortify himself and turn the matter of his unfortunate marriage and his future fiancee as if he were still a child who knows nothing.

What is the catch? Trying to break the depths of his soul and disturb the fierce and noble motivation for which he was doing all this in the first place?

It was not going to be easy to get him to back off, he warned them.

"Maybe you should have left all this up to the Council," he says tentatively, "at least that way, you would have saved yourself not only from choosing but also from the possibility of making a bad choice."

What was a bad choice, anyway? He thinks. He was being terribly unfair; This wasn't being difficult just for him. Suddenly his annoying reflection becomes one that shows the empathy and concern that characterise him so much. It wasn't just him who was giving up his life to tie it to someone else's, he reminded himself. His fiancée would put aside her wishes and dreams to become his wife. Maybe she was against this as much as he was, or more. Thinking about it filled his heart with pain and regret.

Then he suddenly remembers Ezran's anguish and concern when he fervently opposed what he would do. Abruptly, that image recovers a new meaning and becomes much sourer.

Sighing, the young man looks at his hand, realising that he had been pinching the skin of his ring finger hard, almost tearing off the skin in the folds. He promises himself that even if he ends up in an arranged marriage with someone who doesn't love him and who has given up as much as he was doing, he will do his best to be a good husband.

When the tender, rhythmic sound of a familiar flutter reaches the lake, Callum pulls himself out from his thoughts and turns his attention to the white blur that passes over him and perches gracefully and gently on the lake, away from him. The water on the surface is hardly altered by the swan that lands on it.

The young man remains still, still holding his finger. His leaf-green gaze is on the bird that glides in the water, cautious.

He had seen it before, along with the rest of the flock. It's always under the protective wing of who Callum assumed to be the leading swan. So seeing it on its own without the others was a rare thing, he thought. It was much smaller than the rest, but it was not a cygnet, it had a glossy white plumage with some lilac and cerulean feathers on the tips of its wings and tail.

Callum deeply regretted not having his sketchbook with him right now and is forced to settle for drawing on the ground with a branch. A small drawing, nothing very detailed, that he made with smooth and not very abrupt movements.

He decided instantly that although he didn't hate his improvisation on earth; the drawing didn't do the beautiful creature justice at all.

The little swan looks at him suspiciously and doubtfully from a distance, standing in the water and Callum looks at it too, this being the first time he's facing (even if at a distance) one of the swans without a willow tree, a bush or shrub in the middle to hide it.

It was _beautiful_.

**━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━**

"Smile more, Prince Callum."

Callum swallowed hard. "I don't think I can smile more, Dad."

Harrow discreetly cleared his throat. They weren't the only ones in the great hall which was tinged with golden lights that illuminated warmly and contrasted with the red tapestries. Guests were scattered everywhere, and noise, laughter, and music could be heard echoing off the walls in abundance. "You're too tense, your smile looks more like a grimace of agony, son."

"It's more like a 'my stomach is churning' grimace." He corrected. "There are too many people everywhere, many more than there usually are, and I don't know most of them." He added with a certain panic in his voice. Callum could feel the sweat building upon his forehead and the collar of his shirt felt tighter. "I feel suffocated..."

Harrow looked sympathetically at his son for a long second, cocking his head to one side. "Well, they're here for your twenty-first birthday. Normally, there are many people."

Indeed, many important people from the other Four Kingdoms and various cities of Katolis had attended for his celebration. People from royal families, noble families, diplomatic families, political families and ridiculously rich families... Callum has never felt more out of place in his life! He could have the bearing of a prince, according to many, and act as one when required, but deep down he was still a simple commoner boy who had been born in a small rural town on the outskirts of Katolis.

These people honestly intimidated him.

"There are far more maidens than I thought there would be," Harrow comments without even looking at him, touching his chin for a moment as he stares around the great hall as if inspecting it, trying to dissuade his stepson from the insinuating tone of his voice.

And of course, Callum noticed.

He laughed with a shrug. "What kind of King am I, that prevents his son from enjoying his party? I will leave you now, so you can socialise a little."

"Dad, wait, no-"

Harrow didn't hear him. He walked across the room to where Opeli and Corvus were chatting with the other Kings and Queens of the Pentarchy, leaving his eldest son fully exposed.

If this had been a different celebration… one that was unrelated to him turning twenty-one like a cultural festival or a simple ball, then he would be fine despite the anxiety caused by the crowded events. But that wasn't the case. These people were here because he was twenty-one years old now and he had to take a wife. All these marriageable daughters and these marriageable daughter's mothers were here because he had to take a wife.

So it wasn't a surprise that as soon as King Harrow walked away from him, Callum suddenly found himself surrounded by mothers who came to introduce him to their daughters, to ask him if he would dance with them or to tell him the many benefits he would have if he married one of them.

Callum couldn't feel more intimidated and vulnerable.

It felt like a piece of meat in the middle of a cage full of hungry banthers.

He could see his father and Opeli seeing him from a distance, with expectant glances, while interacting with the different maidens who came to greet him.

Everyone had at least a part of their attention focused on him and every move he made, but among all those people, all those unknown and aristocratic faces, he was struck by the fact that Lord Viren was in a corner gathered with other nobles he didn't know.

He hadn't seen him approach his stepfather all night, which was strange since the King and the High Mage were always close at meetings and celebrations with the other kingdoms present. Although things between the two were complicated now, they used to pretend that everything was fine when they were in public.

Callum had thought that after a few days, the tension had disappeared enough for them to fix their relationship. Had he been wrong? Was the anger between those two stronger than he thought?

Lord Viren looked quite annoyed as he spoke to those nobles.

His gaze was _disturbing_.

"May I have a word with my brother?" Ezran's sweet and careful voice brought him out of his trance and brought him back to himself. His little brother had his blue eyes clouded in disguised bewilderment as a hand rested on Callum's shoulder. His gentle gaze turned to the maidens.

"Oh! Of course, Your Highnesses," replied a noble lady and her daughters before leaving. Not without first whispering that they would return later.

Callum shook his head, wondering if he remembered any words that those women had been talking to him about while his mind was elsewhere. He looked at his brother curiously when he realised that he didn't remember anything.

Ezran looked at him sympathetically as he saw around him that no one else approached them. "You look suffocated." He stated, pulling him to a place with fewer people. "Those maidens were very, very enthusiastic. Thank god I got you out of there on time."

"I was handling it well." It's all he can say.

The kid gives a slight laugh that he can't help but look at him as if he had said something outrageous. "I sure you do," he says sarcastically. "Your face is very obvious when you feel very overwhelmed or suffocated by having so many people on you like that. They were on top of you. They and their mothers. Claiming your attention while they were bragging about the riches they have and the benefits they can offer… They looked like a bunch of rowdy Druleons!" he exclaimed, frustrated. "Supposedly they're very 'hanging' on you and still they didn't take you into account at all, nor did they notice that you didn't feel quite right," Ezran said, frowning slightly and folding his arms. "I did well to ask them to stay away." He added. "None of those maidens deserve to be my sister if they can't see my brother for more than just a simple _royal title_."

A laugh welled up on Callum's lips as his greenish gaze grew warmer and more emotional. "Huh? Who are you? A kind of protector of mine?"

Ezran looked at him solemnly. "If I cannot prevent my beloved brother from marrying, then I'll prevent him from marrying any woman who is merely an opportunist."

"You are a such a ray of sunshine!" the young man exclaimed with genuine amazement, a spark of humour in his voice.

A smile tugged on Ezran's lips. "You should take a breath and go outside for fresh air, you're still a little pale." He recommended. "I can cover you for a moment, I'll keep Dad distracted," he added suggestively. "But don't you dare to come back unless you're better!"

"Okay, okay, okay. Relax." Callum said. "I'll do it."

"Good!" Ezran nodded before pointing to the door. "Now, get out of here."

Callum couldn't stop a laugh from escaping his lips as he nodded repeatedly, knowing that this had been an order he couldn't refuse to comply. His brother was right. He needed to get outside for a moment.

The night sky was clear and sported its star-filled sapphire hue. The beaming moon was high above.

On the walls that delimited the rose gardens, the young man could make out the guards watching the outskirts of the castle in the darkness and freshness of the night. Some immersed in their work, others conversing casually.

The prince inhaled and exhaled deeply, filling his lungs with fresh, clean air, joyous with the abysmal difference between the interior and the exterior of the castle. Then, having found himself much better, he wondered how long it would be before he had to go back inside or for Ezran's distraction to fail and his father to notice his absence. He still had no desire to go back inside.

He walked calm and relaxed along the edges of the rose gardens, avoiding with special care the attention of the guards.

Something inside him brought him to the Old Gardens on instinct.

He had kept a small sketchbook hidden with him in case he would need it tonight to distract himself from the celebration. The fleeting memory of the sketch on earth he had made that afternoon crossed his mind. If it was still there, maybe he could redo it in his sketchbook this time.

In the times he had visited the lake, he had become familiar with the peace and ethereal aura of the place. Maybe it was the primal magic or the beauty of the place, but it gave him a certain relaxation every time he went there to draw or meditate when he needed to be alone. So, a welcoming sensation sparked in his chest as he walked inside.

Fresh, sweet breeze rocked the flowers and willows.

Callum was sad when he couldn't find the drawing.

But the little swan was there.

His first reaction was to hide behind a nearby wall, which was lined in soft green moss. From there, he could see the crystal clear lake water being illuminated by the moon and the swan swimming on the shore.

If he no longer had the original sketch, he could make a new one in his sketchbook now.

He had drawn only a few lines, when a light —similar to the Moon Rune light— shone brightly, attracting his curious gaze, only to discover that it came from the swan.

A halo of light and magic, bright and silvery, surrounded it. Small, soft-looking feathers flew around.

Callum watched in amazement, feeling motionless and doubting himself and what his eyes saw for an instant, when his breathing abruptly stopped in his throat, and his heart ceased beating.

The graceful little swan transformed into a white-haired maiden. 

His eyes met _hers_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rayla's finally getting her introduction! 
> 
> Friendly (and fictional) dictionary.
> 
> Druleon: Chicken-sized Xadian bird that is connected to the Earth Arcanum. It's characterized by being very boisterous and annoying.


	6. Sharp side

_So this is how my life ends?_

That's the first thought Callum has when he realises he's about to die.

He's knocked down on the ground. His body is stiff, unable to move as oxytocin grips his brain, and his fear ends up clouding his judgment. He's _paralyzed_. All his senses, even his most primitive instincts, prevent him from moving and keep him there. Still, his body still has the strength to give him the uncontrollable urge to want to _run away._ He feels like prey about to enter the jaws of its predator. He wants to pass out, but the sharp edge of the blade that is savagely pressed against his throat, below Adam's apple, keeps him conscious to torment him further.

_She's going to kill me, isn't she? She's going to cut up my throat._

His breathing is heavy. He feels the need to swallow even though his mouth is dry. How come he ended like this?

The meaning of the phrase _'everything can change in a second with the simplest decision'_ suddenly takes on a strong meaning when the young man thinks about how he had gone from overwhelm to panic, from his birthday celebration to his imminent death at the cost of a single simple decision that, however innocent it had been, had meant his death sentence.

He shouldn't have gone to the lake. Why didn't he just stay in the garden? That decision...

That decision, if it had been different, could have changed everything.

Suddenly, as if his mind had remembered his current situation, he felt the pressure of the blade press against his neck. Callum barely has the courage to see his attacker in irrational fear when something _liquid_ slides down his throat's skin.

But he wants to see her. He wants to, at least, see the person who will cut his throat in two with a pointy, sharp blade like a cool-blooded assassin. He's in fear, like a child that fears the darkness, but he won't die closing his eyes like a coward. It didn't matter if he already was one.

The gentle green meets the wild lilac, pleading. _Do it,_ he says, finding the valour to think it defiant. _Kill me._

His attacker is an elf, he can tell. He hadn't seen one like her before, but it seems that she's around his age. She's talking to him. She's saying _something_ to him, but Callum can't understand her clearly. He can feel the pulse in his ears. His shock and fear suppress listening skills, preventing him from distinguishing the words she's saying and that sound so crude and hostile.

An image in his mind takes the form of a swan.

Before being like _this_ , the last thing he remembers is seeing the elegant little lilac-and-cerulean feathered swan in the lake. Then it transformed into an elf. Beautiful could have been the word Callum would have used to describe what his eyes had seen, if not because of that he was now certain that he was going to die.  
In the hands of the wild and deadly side of grace and elegance themselves. This is how he was going to die.

She says something else, her tone of voice shows that she has asked him something, but he hasn't heard what.

Callum looks at his attacker. _This is the person who will kill me,_ he thinks. Even at this very moment, your mind finds a form to annoy him by reminding him he cannot defend himself. He feels pathetic. Weak. But somehow he finds solace in the lilac eyes that watch him. _She will be quick. It won't hurt._ The fresh breeze that forms the small ripples on the lake's surface and cools the moss rocks her silver-white hair in the moonlight. _She's still elegant, she's still a swan._

And he's hypnotised by that.

Beautiful. That could have been the word, but it hasn't.

_You can kill me. I will not fight back._

His near-suicidal thoughts are interrupted when the grip on his arm grows stronger and the blade tightens.

"I won't kill you," she states as if she had read his thoughts. "Do you still think you're silent? You are not as stealthy as you think you are." She appends. There is a mixture of disdain and arrogance in the sound of her voice. _It sounds scratchy._ "For other humans maybe, but I can hear you and I've seen you here before. What do you want, human? What do you want from us?"

It confuses Callum. Part of him is glad to still breathing while the other can barely handle his anxiety and dread. Why does his body keep insisting on running away when everything seems to indicate that he won't be able to?

"I-I... uh..." He tries to speak, the task of forming words is made too difficult with a blade to his throat but he tries.

She looks at him cautiously, the sharp bright in her lilac, deep, penetrant eyes it's almost wild. They make him feel helpless. He's still a weak prey there, and she's the powerful predator who will end his life with a single movement. 

Despite it, he forces himself to get up; a terrible decision as she presses him against the ground again. She is _strong_. Both are aware of the differences in the physical complexion of both, but still, Callum cannot deny the strength she possesses. Yet another reason for his instincts as to why he should fear this elf.

But that's _nothing_ compared to the pain in his neck when she knocked him down again; sharp, cold, precise. The cut from before was just a small scratch compared to the cut from now, and the _blood_ he felt gushing and slipping after was only confirmation of that.

_She wounded him._

And she also seems to notice it because her grip falters and she feels weak for an instant before she gets up and steps away from him. Callum feels it and sees it. He sees something similar to panic reflected in her eyes. She looks at him.

He's scared, and it hurts. The wound hurts him badly, and the crimson blood is gliding, but he's strangely calm. Maybe it's his instincts telling him it was better to stay like this.

Something, a murmur, comes from her lips. Something that he doesn't understand because it is beyond the barriers of his language. "You are not one of them."

It's all Callum manages to hear from her when her gaze stiffens again.

"Get out of here."

* * *

"Of all the times ... of all the days when you can act irresponsible and do you choose precisely this day?"

Harrow frowned as he crossed his arms to look at his oldest son with something deeper than anger and disappointment. The morning sun was showing its rise in the dark-blue sky, but it was still subtle and weak. Only a few servants and guards were present in the room, continuing their usual duties without paying attention to the angry King.

The guests had left almost an hour ago. In the great hall, there were only the remains of the party and a vast and overwhelming silence, and only the echo of Harrow's annoying voice could cut that.

Callum looked down to avoid his stepfather's, feeling a slight itch of shame on his cheeks and ears, not to mention barely numb pain in his neck now covered by his usual scarf to hide his wound. All the young man could do was pray that Harrow didn't notice it, despite the scent of blood he could subtly feel.

Ezran was at Lord Viren's side, his bright blue eyes widening at him, reflecting a deep sense of guilt. He regrets that he couldn't distract his father enough and feels the weight of his scolding, even when it isn't directed at him. He wants to say something to defend his older brother, but the High Mage's grip on his shoulder is strong. He silently orders him to close his mouth.

Callum silently vows that he will later compensate his little brother for giving his best and convincing him it wasn't his fault.

"I'm more than disappointed in you, son," Harrow remarks dryly.

Callum tries to explain himself. "I'm sorry Dad. Really. But-"

"No buts, Callum." His father interrupts. "You knew well the enormous weight of tonight. You knew that this was not just another celebration, that it was important not only for you but also for the kingdom. They all came from afar for this and you weren't present, do you know the shame you have put us through?"

"I know." Callum insists, genuinely regretting. His eyes search his father's for some kind of compassion or sign that tells him that his bad mood wasn't absolute and that there was still something good. But he found nothing. "I know I wronged, and I have embarrassed you. I recognise it." He agrees, ignoring the pain in his throat. "For that reason, I am apologising."

"I want you to tell me one thing, son." Harrow ignored his words, rubbing his temples with both hands. "Are you taking this seriously?" he claims, "Because I can not understand how you commit to doing something that you don't do later, you're _failing_ on your word. You broke it and that's what annoys me the most today."

_Believe me, there's no one here more annoyed about that than me._ Callum answers in his thoughts. He says nothing. He knows that Harrow's right.

"If you are not going to take this as devoutly as I thought you were going to, maybe we should stick with what we originally planned," Harrow suggests. Though his voice lacks such distinctive, suggestive tone and instead, it sounds like a dry, cold imposition. Callum's eyes filled with concern and fear when he understood what his stepfather was referring to and his gaze falls on his brother.

Ezran watches him in silence, not understanding.

"No!" Callum exclaims, surprising himself and the others present by the sudden desperate and breathless tone in his voice. "You don't have to get him into this. You shouldn't do it." He pleads. "I can explain what happened today; there was a-a lake and…"

"A lake?" Harrow repeats, almost hysterically. "You are talking nonsense!" He states. Lord Viren looks just as upset (or more) than he does. _Of course,_ Callum thinks. _He's not going to believe me._

The wound on his neck continues to ache, the now dried blood has stuck to the fabric of his scarf and if Callum moves, it could be worse.

King Harrow now looks at him with more anger than before, the prince can safely say that he's holding back so as not to say something in front of Ezran that he might later regret.

_He wouldn't believe me either if I told him that there's a lake hidden in the castle with swans and that one of them transformed into a girl who almost killed me. Isn't he?_

The elf who almost killed him. She had knocked him down so easily and so quickly that when his senses came back to him; he was already on the ground with her on top of him, threatening him with a long, sharp blade. She had been swift, strong... She probably would have killed him.

_She probably... would have killed him._

So why didn't she do it? Why didn't she end his life when he had already given up and blood was running down his throat?

"Dad," Ezran's unusual, low-pitched voice sounded almost inaudible in the great hall and contrasted immensely with his father's grim, serious words. Ignoring Lord Viren's disapproving gaze, he continued: "It's not his fault. Callum was feeling bad, and I forced him to leave until he felt better."

"Son, it's noble of you to want to take responsibility but it's not something you should do. Callum does." Harrow sounded so meticulous when he said that. "He's an adult now. He must take charge of his actions."

The prince looked at his younger brother to ask him quietly not to say anything else. Looking inside for the spiritual strength necessary to avoid feeling the humiliation of being treated like a child. "And I'll do it." He says. "After the festival, I'm going to-"

"It's too late now." Harrow interrupts him. "What you have done was a great offence, Prince Callum. I will have to talk to the Council about this, but chances are…" _They will choose for me._ Callum completes it for him, he sees that amid all Harrow's anger, there's still a spark of pity twinkling.

* * *

_A Moonshadow elf._

Callum will look at the sketch he has made on his desk. It hasn't been more than an hour since his 'conversation' with his stepfather, and although having been awake all night until sunrise had him in a physical state that went beyond exhaustion, he had still found the strength to stay awake and draw something.

Draw made him relax. It distracted him.

Though, the paper reflected the drawing of the elf who had attached him in a way that was generating him a feeling of uneasiness other than what his neck injury was causing.

Running his fingers through the now clean and sanitised area, Callum convinced himself that it hadn't been fatal or deep enough to cut something like an artery or tendon, but that didn't take away the excruciating, ghost pain that he felt. As if he could still feel the edge on his skin.

It would leave a mark. He was sure of that.

One thing the young man didn't understand was why he kept thinking of her despite the fear that had gripped him at the time. Anyone would have wanted to forget what had happened that night. Anyone would try to never go near there again.

Why couldn't he do it? Why did he keep thinking about it?

It was what he had seen? It was _her_? It was because in one last heartbeat she had shown compassion and regret for him? Or was it that strange, unconscious desire to seduce death after their close encounter?

_You are not one of them..._

"Who are you?" he questions his drawing in a whisper. The anxiety and tiredness clouded his eyes and his voice showed fear of his dangerous need to know about her.

A knock on the door causes him to put aside the subject of drawing, to answer his brother to come in. Ezran looks strange being in a shrunken and silent posture while holding Bait in his arms.

Callum strives to show warmth with his gaze and his smile.

"I just wanted to tell you, I'm so sorry." He spoke. Something in his eyes told Callum that his brother had learned something he hadn't known before and that he had made him aware of an exceeding truth. _He knows it now._ He says to himself, an empty statement that echoes in his mind.

"Don't worry." He manages to say, turning his head to the side as Ezran goes deeper into the room to hide his injured neck from his view. He searches for his scarf somewhere but cannot find it. "You should go to your room and try to get some sleep." He says, choosing to raise his shirt's collar a little more.

Ezran tries to insist while Bait changes the colour of his scales. "Y-yes but..."

"And you are an exceptional brother." Callum interrupts. "You are too good, but you must trust me and what I say; I'm fine."

The boy opens his mouth to say something, but no word echoes in the room. Instead, his attention is fixed on a certain illustration on his older brother's desk, Callum steps aside to let him see and, in turn, prevent him from being too close to him and noticing his wound.

"Hey, this one is new," he declares, "who is it? I've never seen someone like her before. Is she an elf?" he inquires, Callum doesn't know what to answer other than just nodding. "It's great."

Bait croaks in approval.

"You should go to your room and try to get some sleep." He changes the course of the conversation, there's a pitch of urgency in his voice. He tries not to pay too much attention to the puppy eyes his younger brother does when he adds: "You have lessons with Opeli later, didn't you?. You don't want to fall asleep in your class, do you?" A small smile tugs at the prince's lips at his brother's face.

"Her classes are the worst..." he murmurs. "Once I enter her study, I won't be able to see the sunlight until tomorrow!" He exclaims, too exaggerated and dramatic for Callum's taste that instead of saying something, he rolls his eyes. "And now after what had happened, I'm sure she would complain about you." He adds with an annoyed frown. Even Bait turns his scales into a crimson hue.

Callum doesn't have the heart to tell his baby brother that more than annoying he looked adorable. His cheeks (just like their mother's) always swell when he was upset.

Moreover, the new knowledge about Opeli's complaints about him left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

"It's okay." Ezran suddenly nods and agrees to go rest. A luxury that Callum couldn't afford that day after last night. "I'll go to rest and when it's time for my boring, torturous classes, I'll try to soften Opeli's mood so she's not so upset with you."

"I'm counting on you then." He replies. To be honest, he didn't have much hope.

When his brother and Bait finally leave, he prevails silent again. Not even the warm colours outside can end the darkness of the room.

The simple drawing remains the same when Callum takes it in his hands.

_She remains the same._

He crumples it.


End file.
